


If You Would Fight For Me

by arysa13



Series: prompts filled (bellarke) [24]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Tension, fake exes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 20:51:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18881011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Clarke is having trouble breaking up with Finn, so she enlists Bellamy to pose as her possessive, violent ex, in the hopes of scaring Finn away.





	If You Would Fight For Me

**Author's Note:**

> apologies in advance about the crappy ending, i don't know what i'm doing

Clarke has tried breaking up with Finn in a normal way, really. But every time she tries, he gets these big sad eyes, and Clarke can’t bring herself to do it. Mostly because she knows she’ll have to explain _why_ she’s breaking up with him and it seems too harsh to just say _you’re boring and irritating and I hate you_. But she can’t outright lie to him, either. She can, however, set up an elaborate scheme where someone _else_ lies to him. Which is why she’s at Bellamy’s now, with a box of cupcakes she bought when the ones she tried to make from scratch failed miserably.

“What’s with the cupcakes, Clarke?” Bellamy asks, taking the box from her and letting her into his apartment.

“You sound so suspicious.”

“Because you’re clearly up to something.”

“Can’t a girl bring her friend’s brother cupcakes without an ulterior motive?”

Okay, to be fair, her presence at his apartment is both out of the blue and out of the ordinary. She’s been there a few times, but only while Octavia is there as well, so she can’t really blame Bellamy for being suspicious.

“Is that all I am to you? I thought we were friends.”

“We are!” Clarke says hurriedly. “Hence the cupcakes.”

“Well, in that case, thanks for the cupcakes. Is there anything else, or are you leaving now?”

“Actually, I do have one _tiny_ favour to ask.”

Bellamy gives her a triumphant smirk. Cocky is a good look for him, though she’d never tell him that. “Thought as much.”

“There’s this guy—”

“Nope,” Bellamy says immediately. “Not getting involved in your love life.”

“You haven’t even heard my request yet!”

“You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend to make the guy you like jealous.”

Clarke screws up her nose. “No… I want you to pretend to be my _ex-_ boyfriend so the guy I _don’t_ like will break up with me.”

Bellamy looks at her like she’s completely lost her mind. Maybe she has. “That makes no sense, Clarke.”

“It does! Look, here’s my plan. You come to my apartment while Finn is over, and you pretend to be my crazy, possessive, possibly violent ex, and he’ll get scared off. He won’t want the competition. He’s a wimp.”

“A wimp.”

“Yes. You know, a coward.”

“I know what a wimp is. Maybe he just doesn’t like violence. Maybe he’s a pacifist.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“You have serious issues.”

“My main issue right now is that I have a stupid boring boyfriend and you won’t help me get rid of him,” Clarke huffs.

“God, you are such a brat,” Bellamy rolls his eyes. “What do I get out of it, huh?”

“Cupcakes.”

“I already have the cupcakes.”

“Can’t you just do a nice thing for your friend because she hates her boyfriend?”

Bellamy twists his mouth, considering. “Why can’t you just break up with him yourself?”

“Because he gets all sad and pathetic every time I try.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes again. “And why me?”

“It needs to be someone he hasn’t met. And you do dangerous and intimidating really well. It’s kind of hot,” she adds, without thinking.

“It’s hot, huh?” Bellamy raises an eyebrow.

Clarke sputters in response, realising her mistake. “I said kind of,” she manages. “You know, if you’re into that kind of thing. Which I’m not.”

“Okay,” Bellamy says, and he’s not exactly smirking, but Clarke can’t help but feel like he’s laughing at her.

“Is that a yes?”

“You promise he’s not going to try to fight me for you?”

“He won’t. I don’t think he even knows how to fight.” Which is actually kind of a shame, because Clarke kind of likes the idea of two guys fighting over her, especially if one of them is Bellamy. Maybe his shirt would rip during the fight and he’d have to fight shirtless. And maybe Finn would get one good punch in and Clarke would have to stitch Bellamy up later. It could totally happen.

“You really want to dump a guy just cause he’s boring and doesn’t know how to fight? You want to date some asshole instead?”

“Assholes come in all shapes and sizes, Bellamy. Just because he’s boring and can’t fight doesn’t make him not one.”

Bellamy nods his head, conceding. “Okay, you’re right.”

“Did you just say I’m right?” Clarke teases.

“You want my help or not?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, you got it. I better not regret it.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Clarke says, throwing her arms around him. “I swear you won’t regret it.”

“Clarke, you’re crushing the cupcakes,” Bellamy says, his voice a little strangled.

“Sorry,” she steps back. “I’ll text you later with the details, okay?”

“Oh, you’re going?”

“Don’t you want me to?”

Bellamy shrugs. “I mean. You can stay if you like. I have all these cupcakes I can’t eat by myself.”

“Okay,” Clarke says. She feels strange. Awkward and uncertain. She and Bellamy don’t really hang out alone together. Octavia at least is usually there. She’s their connection. Although, lately Clarke has been feeling less and less close to Octavia. She’d hate to lose Bellamy just because Octavia found some new weird friends Clarke doesn’t like.

Except, the thought of being alone with Bellamy gets her stomach fluttering, and suddenly she doesn’t know what to say to him, or where to look.

“Actually, I should go,” she says, changing her mind.

“That’s okay. Take a cupcake for the road.” He opens the box, and Clarke takes one. 

“I’ll text you,” she says. Bellamy nods, and Clarke hurries out of there as fast as she can.

 

-

 

**Bellamy**

**Today** 8:31pm

**I’m at your place**

**I’ll be upstairs in a minute**

**Remember to be convincing please**

**You have to really sell it**

**I’ve got it covered, Clarke**

**Do we need a safe word?**

**What would we need a safe word for?**

**In case you change your mind**

**In case it goes too far**

**Okay maybe**

**How about… apples?**

**Why apples?**

**Finn is eating one right now**

**He chews so loudly I can’t stand it**

**Apples it is**

**See you in a second**

 

Clarke puts her phone down, and looks back up at the TV screen. She has no idea what’s happening in the movie she and Finn are watching, too focused on his arm hanging limply over her shoulders, and the loud chewing coming from his mouth. She’s never gritted her teeth so hard.

“Who are you texting?” Finn asks.

“My mom,” Clarke lies.

“What does she want?”

What Clarke wants to say is, _none of your fucking business_. What she actually says is, “just mom stuff.”

Bellamy knocks on the door, and Clarke forces herself not to spring off the couch too quickly. Finn looks at Clarke, frowning.

“Are you expecting someone else?” he asks.

Clarke shakes her head, and hops up to answer the door. Her eyes widen when she sees Bellamy, as if she really is surprised to see him. Maybe it’s the way he’s dressed, like he copied his outfit from a bad boy in a teen move, complete with a leather jacket. It would be funny if it weren’t so sexy.

“Hey, baby,” he drawls, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes rake over her, and Clarke knows it’s part of the act, but it gets her heart racing all the same. Her stomach churns.

“Bellamy,” she swallows. “What are you doing here?”

“Uhh, Clarke?” Finn calls from the couch. Bellamy keeps his eyes on Clarke for a moment before looking up at Finn.

“Who the fuck is that?” Bellamy growls. He pushes past Clarke and swaggers into her apartment. He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on the arm of a chair. His tight white shirt highlights every muscle in his torso and his arms. Clarke swallows, trying to stop her mouth from watering. She shuts the door behind him. Finn is standing by the couch, looking unsure.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Finn says. “Finn.”

Bellamy shoots a glance at Clarke. “Really, Clarke? That guy? You can do better than that.”

“Who are you?” Finn asks, since it seems Clarke isn’t going to tell him. She seems to have lost the ability to speak.

“I’m the guy she’s supposed to be with,” Bellamy says. Bellamy plays his part so well, Clarke is almost convinced he means it. His deep, threatening voice thrills her. He has his arms folded, his chin tilted up, as if he’s daring Finn to challenge him. Clarke has never been more attracted to anyone in her life.

“Clarke?” Finn says uncertainly, waiting for her to explain.

“He’s my ex,” Clarke manages.

“Technically,” Bellamy says tersely. “We both know you belong to me.” Fucking hell. Clarke knew he’d be good at this, but she didn’t expect to be so affected by it. His words have her blushing, her skin tingling, her heart racing.

“Now, what I’m going to need you to do, is run on out of here, and never come near Clarke again, got it? Or you and I are going to have a problem.” His voice somehow sound even deeper now, and though the two of them are of a similar height, Bellamy seems to tower over Finn. His stance is aggressive and imposing, and Finn shrinks away from him. Finn looks to Clarke, swallowing.

“You should do what he says, Finn,” Clarke says. “You don’t want to get on his bad side.”

Just as Clarke had predicted, Finn nods, almost like he’s relieved he doesn’t have to fight this guy for Clarke. Bellamy glares at Finn as Finn passes between Bellamy and Clarke, looking like a kicked puppy. As soon as Finn’s back is turned, Bellamy’s expression softens, and Clarke beams at him in relief. Their plan worked.

A moment later, Finn’s fist cracks against Bellamy’s face.

“Oh my god, Finn!” Clarke cries. Her instincts tell her to rush to Bellamy’s side, but she pulls back when she realises Bellamy has it covered. It takes him only a second to recover from the shock of Finn’s punch, and in two moves he has Finn’s arm twisted behind his back, while Finn struggles in pain.

“Don’t fucking try that again,” Bellamy growls. “Or you’ll be leaving this apartment on a stretcher.”

“Okay,” Finn breathes. “Fuck, okay. I’m sorry.”

Bellamy twists Finn’s arm a little tighter, and Clarke realises this is turning her on way too much, and if she doesn’t stop it now, she’ll let it go way too far.

“Apples!” she yells. Bellamy immediately drops Finn’s arms.

“Apples?” Finn repeats, confused.

“Thought you’d kind of work it into a sentence, but yelling it works fine too,” Bellamy says.

“What the fuck is going on?” Finn asks.

Bellamy looks to Clarke, and Clarke grimaces, a little sheepishly. “Bellamy isn’t my ex,” she sighs. “He’s just a friend I asked to pretend to be my ex to scare you off.”

“Scare me off?”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“Clarke,” Finn says, and out come the puppy dog eyes. They aren’t going to work this time.

“Sorry, Finn.”

“Why?”

“Because you annoy me, okay? You’re boring and you annoy me.”

Finn looks hurt, and Clarke feels a little bad for him. Not bad enough to take it back. Somehow Bellamy being there gives her the courage to actually go through with it this time.

“Sorry, man,” Bellamy says with a shrug. “You better go.”

Finn eyes him warily, as if he’s not quite sure if Bellamy is going to try and fight him again.

“Fine, I’m going. Thanks for nothing, Clarke,” he mutters, and then he leaves, slamming the door behind him. Clarke gives Bellamy a guilty look.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “For dragging you into this.”

“Hey, I agreed to it,” he shrugs.

“I did promise you wouldn’t have to fight him for me.”

Bellamy glances down, as if he’s trying to hide his slight smile. “Yeah, you owe me.”

Clarke twists her fingers together nervously. Those butterflies she felt the other day are back. “Sit down, I’ll get you something for your face.”

Bellamy nods, and Clarke hurries into the kitchen. She rummages around in the freezer until she finds a bag of frozen peas. She wraps the bag in a dish towel and goes back out to the living room, where Bellamy is sitting on the couch. Clarke kneels on the couch beside him, her knees pressing against his thigh.

“Where’d he hit you?”

Bellamy turns his head, gesturing to the other side of his face. His cheek is bruising already. Clarke reaches her arm over him to press the peas to his face. He’s definitely capable of doing it himself, but he doesn’t make any move to take it from her.

“He got you good, huh?”

“Surprised that didn’t make you change your mind about breaking up with him.”

“He punched you while you weren’t paying attention. He’s still a coward,” Clarke says. “I know maybe I made you think I just want to date violent assholes. But that’s not the case.”

“Glad to hear it,” Bellamy says. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Clarke’s stomach lurches. “Yeah?”

“Of course not,” he says.

“I don’t want you getting hurt either.”

“Little late for that,” Bellamy chuckles. Clarke ducks her head, smiling. “This isn’t exactly how it went in your imagination, was it?”

“No,” Clarke agrees. “In my fantasy you were shirtless,” she admits, blushing. She immediately regrets it. What is she doing, telling him she fantasises about him shirtless?

“Oh?” Bellamy says, interested. He sits up a little straighter. “What fantasy is that?”

Clarke can’t look him in the eye. Her body is hot all over, and their faces are so close. “The one where you get into a fight over me.”

“Shirtless.”

“Yeah.”

“And do I win the fight, in this fantasy? Or am I the bad guy?” Clarke chews her lip.

“You’re not the bad guy,” Clarke says.

Bellamy raises an eyebrow. “But the bad guy wins?”

Clarke shakes her head. “I told you, I don’t want to date bad guys.”

Bellamy doesn’t seem to pick up on the subtle implication that she wants to date him. His hand moves to cover Clarke’s, the one holding the peas to his face. “What do you want?”

She’s looking at him now, really looking at him. His deep brown eyes bore into hers, like he’s trying to look right into her soul. “Why do you want to know?” she whispers.

“Just curious.”

Clarke swallows. “I just want somebody to be on my side. I want… someone who will stick up for me. Someone who’s honest with me. Someone who’s not scared to fight for me. Or fight with me, if they disagree with me. I want somebody to be soft with me,” she bites her lip. “But also… a little rough with me.”

“When I’m fucking you, you mean,” Bellamy says. Clarke’s breath catches in her throat. Did he just say— “ _They’re_ fucking you,” he corrects quickly. “When someone—”

Clarke cuts him off with a kiss, capturing his lips with hers, rushed and shaking. His hand drops from hers, and then both his hands come to grip her waist. Clarke hooks her leg over him, straddling him, drawing another kiss from him, longer, slower, sweeter. The peas drop from her hand onto the couch, forgotten.

Bellamy rubs his hands up and down her sides slowly, deepening their kisses, pushing his tongue into her mouth, taking control. He pulls her closer, until she can feel his cock, pressing hard against the juncture of her thighs. She wants to grind down on him, try to ease the growing pressure between her legs. Instead she pulls away, panting.

“Apples,” she says.

“You don’t have to say the safe word, you can just stop.”

“Okay, I want to stop,” Clarke says.

“Okay,” Bellamy says. Clarke gets off him, and settles back against the couch still breathing heavily. “You okay?”

Clarke nods. “I just—I don’t want to do that yet. I just broke up with Finn, and—”

“You don’t have to explain, Clarke.”

“Do you have any fantasies about me?”

“What?”

“I told you my fantasy where you fight over me. I want to know if you have any about me.”

“Plenty. None of them are PG rated, though.”

Clarke grins. “I like you, you know. I want to have sex with you. Just not right now.”

“Okay,” Bellamy smiles. He’s relieved, almost. “That’s okay. I want to show you the soft part of me first anyway, before the rough part.”

“I think I already got a glimpse of both.”

“And which do you like better?”

“Soft,” Clarke whispers, cuddling up to his side. “It was hot though,” Clarke says. “The way you stood up to Finn. I like it when you act all possessive of me.”

“Is that right?”

“You were acting, right?”

“Mostly. Might have been a little bit jealous,” Bellamy says. Clarke’s stomach lurches at the admission. He kisses her temple softly. “I just want you to know that I’m always going to fight for you. Even if sometimes you have to convince me with cupcakes.”

“I know,” Clarke smiles. “By the way, did you get your outfit from a theatre production of Grease?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Bellamy says, looking down at his tight white shirt.

“Nothing, I think it’s sexy. Just don’t know if it would have convinced anyone other than Finn.”

“I resent that.”

“Can I wear your jacket?”

“Yeah, you can wear my jacket. But you still owe me for the punch I got from Finn.”

“Don’t worry, I can think of _plenty_ of ways to make it up to you.”


End file.
